


Yuletide and Merriment

by writteninstony



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Candy Canes, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Movies, Christmas Shopping, Christmas Tree, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Gingerbread Houses, Hot Chocolate, Ice Skating, M/M, Mistletoe, Parking Spots, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Shopping Malls, Snow, Snuggling, Superfamily, Sweaters, Work In Progress, santa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 17,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2705402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writteninstony/pseuds/writteninstony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Counting down the days to Christmas- Superfamily style!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Advent Calendar

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Basically, the co-owner of this account and I are going to write one superfamily christmas prompt every day until Christmas. Review if you like it (or even if you don't) Thanks :) We hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is also posted on fanfiction.net under the same name.

Prompt: Advent Calendar

 

A cool gust of early winter air blew out of the elevator and into Stark tower. The unexpected breeze made its way into the living room, which made Peter look up from where he was coloring in a Christmas tree picture. A wide, toothy smile spread across his young face. Steve Rogers walked into the room, bundled against the cold and carrying grocery bags in both arms. Before he had time to react, Peter had launched himself across the room towards his Pops, who laughed at his son's enthusiastic welcome. No matter what Peter did, he always managed to make Steve smile. Carrying the bags, and now with a six year old attached to his leg, Steve made his way into the kitchen.

After setting down his load, Steve stooped to pick up Peter. The young boy giggled joyously as his father lifted him into the air before bringing him back down into a hug. The large blonde kissed the top of Peter's head and set him on the ground, turning back to his purchases and rifling through the plastic bags.

"I got something for you while I was out, Pete!" Steve called over his shoulder.

The little boy ran over to Steve and looked in the bag as Steve picked up a cardboard Christmas tree with numbered doors on it. Curiosity got the better of him as Peter asked, "What is it?"

Steve led the boy back to the kitchen table and set the tree in front of Peter's chair. The child looked up at his father, who began to explain.

"It's called an advent calendar."

The energetic boy cut him off (a trait he surely picked up from Tony). "What's it for?"

"It helps you count down the days until Christmas." Steve explained patiently. "Every day this month, you get to open the door with the right number on it. And when you open the door..." he trailed off as he helped Peter find and open the door marked with the number one. The boy's brown eyes lit up as Steve pulled a small piece of chocolate out of the opening. "You get a treat! Do you think you can do it, Peter?"

Peter nodded solemnly. "I can do it, Pops! I'm a big boy."

Steve chuckled and ruffled his hair. "You sure are, Peter."

\----------------------------------------------------------

The first thing Steve noticed upon walking back into the living room was that the quiet chatter between Tony and Peter that had filled the silence in the house for at least an hour suddenly turned into conspiratorial whispers . Steve padded around to the front of the couch quietly, stopping in his tracks when he found his husband and son sprawled out on the floor staring up at him with guilty looks on their faces. For a second he didn't understand why, but he spotted the empty advent calendar between them and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It was Daddy's idea!" Peter said quickly, pointing a finger at Tony.

"Thanks for not ratting me out," Tony grumbled, shooting Peter a betrayed glance. "this is the last time I let you in on my awesome plans."

Steve shook his head. "I honestly don't know what I expected." he said, staring down disappointedly at the two boys. "Actually, that's a lie," he started again. " I would have expected this from you," he pointed at Tony, who gasped in mock offence. Steve just rolled his eyes before continuing. "but Peter..." he trailed off,

"I'm sorry Pops." Peter said. Steve really shouldn't have been the one feeling bad, but Peter stared up at him with huge puppy dog eyes, and the poor kid looked like he was about to cry real tears.

"It's fine Peter, just next time don't listen to Daddy when he tells you to do things you know you shouldn't, okay?"

"Okay" Peter said, and Steve crouched down to kiss him on the cheek.

"What, no kiss for me?" Tony asked, giving him the fakest hurt look Steve had ever seen. Steve didn't grant him a real response as he stood back up, only glared as Peter tugged on the hem of his sweater.

"Oh, and Pops?"

"Yes, Peter?" he answered, turning back around to face his son.

"I tried to save you a piece, but daddy ate it."

"Snitch!"


	2. Sweaters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, I’m not quite sure how much this actually has to do with the prompt, but we hope you enjoy it! As always, read and review!

Prompt: Sweaters 

When Tony woke up, he was disappointed to see that Steve was already out of bed. His husband wasn't anywhere to be seen, but the bed was still warm where he had been laying, so the blonde couldn’t have left too much earlier. The alarm clock on Steve’s side of the large bed began chiming an annoyingly high-pitched note. Tony groaned and buried his face back into his pillow before reaching over and smacking the offending object to make it stop. When all was quiet again, Tony could hear the faint sound of the shower and Christmas music. 

The shower turned off, and shortly after, a cloud of steam was released from the bathroom as Steve walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist. The man’s muscular chest still glistened with water droplets. Tony grinned mischievously. And a very good morning to me! 

Unfortunately, Steve walked past the bed and made his way to the dresser, pulling out a pair of underwear and a white undershirt. After putting on the undergarments (much to Tony’s dismay), Steve walked to the closet and added a pair of jeans and a Christmas sweater to his outfit. Personally, Tony thought he had looked just fine in the towel, so, being the pain in the ass that he prided himself in being, he decided to protest. 

“No, Steve, don’t put clothes on!” he whined, sitting up in bed. “Why are you out of bed yet? It’s only,” he glanced at the clock. “Six o’clock!” 

Noticing for the first time the chill in the air, he crossed his arms over his tee shirt and feigned violent shudders. “It’s too cold.”

He patted the bed next to him and said in a voice that was equal parts eager, seductive, and teasing, “We should just stay in bed all day.”

Steve chuckled and moved around to Tony’s side of the bed. The blonde man sat next to Tony, who scooted his legs over to make more room for him. 

“Y’know Steve, as hot as you make that sweater look, imagine how much better it would look on the floor.” Tony tried his hardest to make his husband stay, but it was getting difficult to concentrate as Steve’s large hand moved onto his cheek. Unable to help himself anymore, Steve leaned forward and pressed his lips against Tony’s. Tony immediately responded, trying to deepen the kiss. Steve laughed against his husband’s desperate mouth and pulled back. 

“I don’t know what has you in such a good mood this morning, Tony, but I really wish you would pick a better day to do it.” Steve stood up from the bed as Tony pouted. 

“What do you have to do that’s so important that you can’t spare a couple hours or so for your husband?” Tony demanded.

Steve moved back to closet and grabbed a pair of shoes and socks as he responded. “Well, Tony, someone has to take our son to school.”

Tony rolled his eyes as Steve sat on the end of the bed. The brunette man crawled up behind Steve as he put on socks. Tony kissed Steve’s neck before replying, “Peter’s a smart kid. He doesn't really need school.” He threw in another kiss to the neck before adding, “Come back to bed.”

Steve sat still for a minute, almost seeming to consider the idea. Tony silently cheered him on. Ultimately, however, the blonde stood up. 

God dammit. Tony thought. 

“As tempting as that offer is, Mr. Stark, I’m afraid our son’s education has to take priority over what I want.” 

In a last ditch effort, Tony climbed off the bed and stood facing Steve, who (from the look in his eyes) knew what was coming. The shorter man reached up and pulled Steve’s face to his, locking their lips. He pressed himself as closely to Steve as was physically possible as the other man wrapped his strong arms around his back. The Christmas sweater on Steve’s chest was soft to the touch. Tony’s lips strayed from Steve’s, making their way to his neck, kissing and pausing to nibble on his ear lobe. 

“Tony…” Steve mumbled warningly. Tony pulled back, a triumphant grin on his face as he saw Steve’s flushed cheeks. The brunette turned and sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Don’t you have to take Peter to school?” He asked cheekily.

Steve clearly looked frustrated as he took a deep breath. “Yeah.” 

As he made his way to the door, Steve turned back to Tony, who looked up at him innocently. 

“You- just-” Steve struggled to find words. “Stay right there. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” 

Tony smiled up at him seductively. “I’ll be waiting.”

Steve left the room reluctantly, and Tony chuckled to himself as he laid on his back on the bed, the feel of Steve and that damn sweater still on his hands.


	3. Mall Parking Spot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: sorry this prompt is ridiculously short, (and weird haha) the next one will hopefully be longer.. review if you feel like it :)

Prompt: Mall Parking Spot

The first thing Tony noticed about the mall, was that he hated the mall. It wasn't a mild dislike either, he full on despised this shit. Maybe on a normal day it wouldn't have been so bad, but since it was Christmas, the mall was crammed full of people he honestly didn't feel like dealing with. 

At least he assumed it was. Tony hadn't even seen the inside of the mall yet. For the past 20 minutes, he had been driving around the parking lot looking for somewhere to park his car. Yeah, Tony wanted to die. 

He hadn't even wanted to go to the mall in the first place (obviously), but Steve had asked him with his stupid Steve-voice and his stupid Steve-face and fuck, Tony was whipped. Plus, the trip was to pick up presents for Peter, and Tony would be damned if his kid didn't have the best Christmas on the fucking planet. 

Tony just wished the best Christmas on the fucking planet didn't involve the fucking mall. It wouldn't have been so bad if Steve was there, tolerable even, but Tony didn't even have his hottie husband to keep him company. Usually when they were alone in the car together, Steve drove, (because apparently Tony was “easily distracted”) and Tony liked to play a little game he called “Get Captain America To Have Sex With Me In Public”. (It never worked. Steve always went off on some rant about the media and public image, but it wasn’t like Tony had never been caught doing it in the back seat before).

Tony was so consumed in his thoughts (fuck, maybe he was easily distracted), that he nearly missed a golden opportunity: an open parking space a few hundred feet ahead. He was just about to floor it when out of nowhere some bitch in a blue minivan pulled into his spot. Oh, hell no.

Tony had always had bad impulse control, so he considered it a Christmas miracle that he didn’t accidentally on purpose slam his car into her face. He totally would have, but he figured Steve would be kind of pissed that he ruined someone’s holiday. Instead, Tony opted for the good old middle finger out the window, flipping the middle-aged woman off as he skidded around the corner. 

“Fuck this,” Tony mumbled to himself as he sped toward the exit. “Next time I’m taking the suit.”


	4. Santa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's day 4! hope you enjoy :)

Prompt: Santa

"So Peter, what do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas?" Steve asked his son as they sat down to eat breakfast. He and Tony had already done most of their Christmas shopping, but Steve wanted to be sure Peter got what he wanted. When he was growing up he was lucky to get a piece of fruit or a candy bar for Christmas, and even though he wanted to instill the value of appreciation in his boy, he couldn't help but to spoil him, since he had the means.

"I can't tell you!" Peter exclaimed, mouth full of Cocoa Krispies (the kid got his taste in cereal from Tony, that's for sure).

"Well why not?" Steve replied, cocking his head slightly to the side.

"If I tell you, he won't bring me anything." Peter said, as if it were the most obvious thing on the world. "Like birthday wishes."

Steve tried to hide his smile at his son's logic; Peter certainly had a unique way of thinking.

"Why don't you mail him a letter then? I promise I won't peek."

"Come on Pops, no one actually mails things anymore."

Steve couldn't resist a chuckle at that one, because Peter had clearly been spending too much time with Tony lately.

"How's Santa going to find out what you want then?" Steve was genuinely curious as to how his son expected Santa to figure out his wish list.

"Well... Peter started, and Steve recognized that tone of voice. Peter didn't ask for much, so when he really wanted something, Steve could tell.

"Yes?" Steve urged him on.

"I saw Santa was going to be at the mall all month! Do you think we can go see him so I can tell him my list?"

"Sure thing buddy." Steve smiled, placing a hand on Peter's shoulder.

"Today?" Peter asked eagerly, eyes bright.

"Of course! Do you want to go see if Daddy wants to come with us?"

"Yeah!" Peter jumped up from his chair and sprinted towards the elevator before turning back around. "Are you coming?"

"Right behind you Pete" Steve said, picking up the dishes off the table and putting them in the sink before following Peter.

Tony had been in the lab since the night before. Steve wasn't exactly pleased that Tony had spent the night in his workshop, but he also knew that if he didn't let Tony pull an all-nighter once in a while, bad things happened, and as much as Steve hated sleeping alone, he hated dealing with a bitter, bitchy Tony even more.

When Peter and Steve got down to the lab, the first thing Steve noticed was that it was eerily quiet :no loud music or metal hitting metal, just silence. They walked in the unlocked door, and Steve spotted Tony hunched over a desk on the far side of the room. As he got closer, Steve realised why the lab seemed so dead- Tony had fallen asleep (so much for an all-nighter). Steve glanced down at Peter, placing a finger to his lips and whispering “Shh. Don’t scare him”  
Peter stayed quiet, instead launching himself into Tony’s lap. Tony jumped a little, although not as much as Steve expected him to.

“What the- oh hey buddy.” Tony mumbled, realizing who was sitting on top of him. He gave Peter a quick kiss on the forehead before rubbing the sleep from his eyes, accidentally smudging a bit of grease on his forehead. Tony rested his chin on top of Peter’s head, staring into space for a second before noticing Steve.

“Hey, how come I didn’t get you in my lap on this fine morning?” Tony asked, voice still groggy, and Steve couldn’t stop himself from placing a chaste kiss on his husband’s lips.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t want to break you.” Steve said with a smirk. Tony scoffed, but Steve continued on. “Plus Peter’s got something he wants to ask you.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony asked, looking Peter in the eyes and tapping him on the nose, making the boy giggle. “And what would that be?”

“Me and Pops are going to the mall to see Santa! Do you wanna come with us?”

Tony stared at Peter skeptically for a second, as if he was trying to process what Peter had said.

“Santa?” he questioned after a moment. “Why would you want to go see Santa? Santa isn-”

Tony caught the pointed glare Steve was giving him and immediately changed course “Santa is super busy this time of year. Do you really want to keep him from getting his job done?”

“But how- you just don’t want to go, do you?” A sad understanding took over Peter’s face, and Steve didn’t even have to reprimand Tony for hurting their sons’ feelings; the man was already going back on his words.  
“Hey, no, of course I’ll go with you. I just need to get ready. So do you, you can’t go see Santa Claus in your pajamas, can you?”

Peter’s face lit up again. “You’re right! I should go get dressed!” Peter climbed off of Tony’s lap and scampered off. As soon as Peter was out of sight, Tony stood up, letting out a sigh and pulling Steve into a hug.

“I know you don’t like the mall, but you’re going to make Peter very happy.” Steve said softly.

“I know, it’s not even about the mall, Steve, it’s just..” Tony trailed off, and pulled away from the hug. “ I should go get dressed.”

“You should go take a shower.” Steve said, rubbing a thumb over the grease smeared on Tony’s forehead.

“Care to join me?” Tony smirked, winking at Steve and trailing a finger down his spine.

“Later.” Steve growled, placing a kiss on Tony’s jaw.

“And they say I’m the tease.”

* * *

 

“I hate Santa.” Tony whispered harshly into Steve’s ear. They had been waiting in line to see the man for less than 15 minutes, but Tony was already getting antsy. “I fucking hate him. Why do we even do this?”

“Do what?” Steve responded quietly, checking on Peter, who was standing in front of them, silently playing Angry Birds on Steve’s phone. Steve had hoped Tony would get over whatever had been plaguing him at home, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Tell kids this mythical fucking creature brings them presents. Like why bother? Kids just end up getting hurt” Tony ranted as they stepped forward in line.

“Not every kid gets hurt Tony.” Steve said, before it hit him. “Were you?”

“My dad told me flat out when I was four. Four! Why even do the Santa bullshit in the first place? That was the last time I ever trusted him” Tony hesitated for a second, then continued. “I don’t want Peter to stop trusting me.” he glanced down at his feet, and then back up at Steve.  
Steve smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his husband’s back. “Were you planning on telling him anytime soon?”

“I was, I mean I wanted to get it over with, but- I don’t even know, Steve. I just don’t want to be as shitty as my dad was.”

“Tony-” Steve started, but as soon as he began speaking, he realized it was Peter’s turn to see Santa. Tony and Steve both watched as Peter climbed into Santa’s lap, whispering what Steve presumed was his Christmas list into the large man’s ear. As soon as Peter was finished, Steve and Tony walked over to get him, but they were stopped by the photographer , who politely asked them to get in the picture. Tony started to walk even quicker, but Steve grabbed his arm and made him sit down on the large bench next to him.

“Tony...”

Tony rolled his eyes, but complied, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulder and giving the camera the most forced smile Steve had ever seen.

As they were walking away, Steve leaned down to whisper in Tony’s ear. “Santa told me that Peter asked for a robot building kit. Said he wanted to be just like his dad.”

Steve watched as Tony’s smile brightened. “Kid’s after my own heart.


	5. Gingerbread Houses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! As always, read and enjoy. Oh, and review, too! :)

Prompt: Gingerbread Houses

"Hey Pete, what're ya working on?" Tony ruffled his son's hair, leaning over his shoulder.

"Me and Pops are decorating gingerbread houses!" Peter replied excitedly.

"Pops and I," Steve corrected with a smile. He had already eaten half the candy in the kit that was currently strewn across Peter's end of the table. Tony swiped his finger through some excess icing that was slowly dripping down the front of Peter's house, making sure to catch Steve's eye before licking it off. Steve glanced down, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

"Stop that." he huffed under his breath, but Tony could see that the corners of his mouth were turned up. Tony smirked and pulled out a chair, plopping himself down and crossing his arms.

“So would someone care to explain why I, king of the gingerbread house, was not invited to this decorating extravaganza?”

“Pops said you would probably break something.”

“Me? Break something? Steve, baby, I’m hurt. I’ll have you know I’m practically a professional. People would pay good money for a Tony Stark gingerbread house.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Tony, when was the last time you actually touched a gingerbread house?”

Tony tapped his chin, pondering for a short moment. “I honestly don’t remember. But I don’t remember most of the nineties, that doesn’t mean they didn’t happen. For all you know I was the 1996 gingerbread champion, I just can’t remember.”

“Whatever you say, Tony.” Steve said, trying to hide the smile in his voice. “There’s a kit on the counter if you really want to make one.”

“Heck yeah I wanna make one!” Tony said, getting up from his seat and strolling over to the counter. “In fact,” he said, walking back over to the table and shaking the box in Steve’s face. “I bet I can make one that’s better than yours.”

“Really Tony? You want to go there?” Steve asked.

“What, afraid of a little friendly competition?” Tony instigated playfully.

"Of course not," Steve began, "But I don't want to deal with the temper tantrum you'll have when you lose."

“Excuse you, but I do not throw temper tantrums. That often. You just don’t want to accept the fact that I’ll win.”

"Oh, really, Mr. Stark? Since you're so arrogant, I guess I have to put you in your place." Steve chuckled. "I used to punch Hitler for a living. I think I can handle your gingerbread  
house."

"We'll see about that." Tony tore open the box and poured out the contents onto the table in front of him.

* * *

Two hours, fifteen handfuls of gumdrops and four bags of icing later, Tony and Steve sat across from each other, staring at the other's demolished gingerbread pile. Steve's was steaming slightly, and Tony's still faintly blinked with tiny Christmas lights. They sat in silence for a few moments, neither of them knowing what to say.

Finally, Tony broke the silence.

“Mine was better.”


	6. Christmas Movies

Prompt: Christmas Movies

Tony Stark was sitting at his desk in the lab when a loud voice from the living room made him start.

"DAD, DO YOU WANNA WATCH A MOVIE WITH ME AND POPS?" Peter's voice echoed down the stairs. Tony smiled widely and got up from his desk, setting down his current project and walking up the stairs.

When he reached the top, he saw Peter getting scolded by Steve.

"Peter, when I ask you to go ask your dad something, I generally mean that you should actually go downstairs and ask him. You have to use your inside voice in the house, remember?"

Peter smiled sheepishly. "Sorry Pops.."

Tony walked up behind Peter and put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Steve, don't yell at him for that. It worked, didn't it?" He smiled widely at his husband. "I don't see the problem."

Steve rolled his eyes. "It's a bad habit, Tony."

Tony patted Peter's head, and sent him to the couch to pick a movie. "Alright, but the next time you yell down the stairs to call me up for dinner, I'm going to ignore you." He sidled up next to Steve. "You'll just have to come down and get me yourself. And who knows what could happen then."

Steve draped his arms over Tony's shoulders. "What am I going to do with you?" He asked with a small smile.

Tony grinned widely. "I can think of a few things." He placed a kiss on Steve's jaw. Before Steve could reply, Peter whined from the couch, "Dads, hurry up. The movie's starting!"  
Steve removed his arms and Tony sighed.

"So what movie are we watching?" Steve asked as he and Tony sat on either side of Peter. The young boy smiled up at them as the screen flashed through the commercials.

"Rudolph!"

* * *

 

47 minutes later, Steve moved to stand up and turn off the tv. Before he could, however, Peter grabbed his hand. "Just one more? Please, Pops?" He looked up at his father with wide puppy dog eyes. Steve looked at him, and then at Tony beside him, who was giving Steve a look identical to Pete's. Steve sighed. "Really, Tony? You too?"

"Why not? It's the weekend. Let the boy have some fun!"

Resignedly, Steve sat back down. "Fine. But just one more."

* * *

 

Having finished the latest movie, Tony looked out the window. The New York City skyline was lit up like a Christmas tree against the black sky. He stretched and yawned.

"What time is it?"

Steve glanced down at his watch. "9:46."

Tony's eyes widened. "Are you serious? How many movies have we watched?"

The blonde man counted quietly to himself. "Rudolph, Frosty, Nightmare Before Christmas, Elf, The Polar Express, Home Alone, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas. That's, what, seven?"

"Damn." Tony's eyes scanned the living room. The empty bowl of popcorn kernels, the boxes from the pizza shop down the street, Peter's small, sleeping form curled up against Steve with his head on the man's leg. "I guess we should put him to bed."

Steve nodded, and groaned as he stood up with Peter in his arms. Leaning over the boy's head, he gave Tony a quick kiss. "After that, we need to put ourselves to bed, too."

Tony grinned tiredly. "I like the sound of that, Captain."


	7. Ice Skating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is partially based on a true story, I (Emma, one of two lovely authors of this story) actually have fallen and cut my leg open while skating, and let me tell you, it is the opposite of fun. Anyways, if you're reading this, you should leave a review, we'd really appreciate it! Even if you just leave one word, some feedback would be fantastic :)

Prompt: Ice Skating

"Come on Tony," Steve called from his spot on the ice. "You're the one who wanted to go ice skating in the first place."

"No, I said that I hadn't been ice skating in years, in what way does that imply that I actually wanted to go?" Tony yelled back, crossing his arms and sitting down on a bench with a loud huff. He was not going to embarrass himself today.

"Please Dad!" Peter pleaded, stumbling a bit on the ice, and for a second Tony was afraid he was going to fall, but Steve gripped his hand a little tighter to steady him.

"Not today Pete," Tony replied with a wave of his hand. "maybe some other time. Or never. You and Pops seem to be having fun." Peter and Steve had already been around the ice a few times, Tony didn't understand what they needed him for.

"Daddy," Peter whined, and he definitely did not get that trait from Tony. "You'll have fun, I promise!"

"No thanks buddy." Tony said, feeling a little guilty, because Peter looked like he was going to cry.

"Seriously Tony, come on." Steve said and -oh shit- he actually sounded angry. "Can't you just put your ego aside for one day and do something without throwing a fit first?"

"Somebody ate their bitch flakes this morning." Tony mumbled to himself before raising his voice again. "Steve, I can't."

"What's the problem this time Tony, and don't you dare tell me you have issues with the ice..." Steve trailed off, glaring at Tony.

"No! No, it's nothing like that." Tony said quickly. "It's more of a problem with the skates."

"Oh my god, are you kidding me? You made us stop on the way here to get those stupid red and gold ones, now you're saying you don't like them?"

"Hey, these skates are cool, and I love them. I just-" Tony gestured for Steve to come closer before stepping toward the ice. Steve carefully maneuvered himself and Peter to the very edge of the rink, stopping directly in front of Tony. "I can't skate." he said quietly.

"You can't- didn't you say you've been skating before?" Steve questioned, all traces of anger in his voice replaced by mild skepticism

"Well yeah I've been skating before, I never said I was good. The first and only time I went skating, I made it around the ice once, then fell flat on my face and sliced my leg open with a skate, I mean seriously, who does that? Never again Steve, never again." Tony turned to go sit back on his bench and sulk, but before he could move, he felt something tug at the sleeve of his jacket. He flipped back around and stared down at Peter, who was looking back up at him with understanding eyes.

"Dad, don't feel bad, I couldn't skate either until Pops taught me. We can help you learn!"

"Heck, I couldn't skate well until after the serum, although I never managed to cut myself..." Steve said jokingly. Tony knew he said it just to get a rise out of him, but he smacked Steve on the arm anyways. "Go put your skates on" he laughed, giving Tony a subtle tap on the ass and smirking, and well, the Captain sure did know how to encourage him.

Tony walked back over to the bench, and kicked off his shoes, pulling his awesome, totally not stupid, red and gold skates out of the box and putting them on.

"Make sure you tie them tight around the ankles, if they're too loose you're more likely to fall." Steve advised. Tony made sure they were extra tight before carefully making his way over to the ice, stopping right before he got to the edge.

Gingerly, he put one foot onto the ice, then the other. For a second he lost his balance and nearly tipped backwards, but a large hand on his back caught him. Tony straightened up, feeling a little more reassured with Steve touching him.

"So Mr. Freeze, teach me the ways of your people." Tony said, snapping back into smartass mode.

Steve chuckled at Tony's patented brand of affection. "Okay, you ready?"

Tony nodded, but before they could do anything, Peter yelled "Wait!" The boy let go of Steve's hand, shuffling around the back of the two men before grabbing onto Tony's. " There, now we can both help you."

"Thanks Petey." Tony smiled, and he would have ruffled his son's hair if he hadn't been clinging to him and Steve for dear life.

"Ready now?" Steve asked again.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Slowly, Steve started to show him the motions of skating. At first, Tony was unsteady, but every time he thought he was going to fall, Steve caught him with an arm around his waist, and Peter looked up at him with encouraging eyes. After a few minutes, (only a few, they didn't call him a genius for nothing) Tony started to get the hang of it.

"I think you're ready to try skating on your own." Steve said, nodding approvingly at Tony's footwork. Tony immediately froze.

"I don't think I can Steve." Tony whispered, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.  
"I know you can." Steve said, giving Tony a quick kiss on the cheek as he let go of his hand. "Peter and I will wait right here, just go around the ice once." Steve took Peter's hand again and guided them closer to the edge of the rink.

"Aye aye, Captain." Tony gulped, suddenly feeling very alone.

"I can't hear you!" Peter yelled from the sidelines.

"Aye aye Captain!" Tony yelled back. "But we're not singing the Spongebob theme song right now. I'm trying to focus."

He heard Peter giggle, and finally worked up the courage to start moving. He nearly tripped at first, but slowly and surely he gained momentum and began to sail around the rink. Tony made it all the way around, not once, not twice, but three times.

"You're doing great!" Steve called, encouraging Tony further.

He raised his arms above his head in victory- and promptly crashed to the ground, landing on his face.

"Tony! Are you okay?" Steve said, skating over to Tony.

"M'fine." Tony replied, lifting his face up off the ice. "It hurts though, you might have to kiss it."

Steve laughed before pulling Tony up, planting a short kiss on his lips. "Better?"

"Much better." Tony said, pulling him in for another.


	8. Candy Canes

Prompt: Candy Canes

 

"Hey Pete," Clint stepped into the living room carrying a plastic bag. "I brought you something!" he shook the bag and stood waiting for Peter to come running. He didn't have to wait for long; Peter popped up from behind the couch, dropping the StarkPad he had been playing on onto to the ground.

“Uncle Clint!” Peter exclaimed, nearly toppling over his own feet in an effort to get to Clint and his present.

"Woah, slow down kid," Clint said, grabbing the boy by the shoulder to steady him. "It's not that exciting. By no means is this your real Christmas present, but what kind of uncle would I be if I didn’t show up without a little something for my favorite nephew? Not a cool one, that’s for sure”

“You aren’t a cool uncle anyway” Clint heard Tony snark from where he was lying on the couch. “And could you please keep it down? Some people are trying to get some rest over here, thanks.” Tony rolled over and pressed his face in between the couch cushions.

“Rude.” Clint said louder than he had been speaking before. He smirked as the genius groaned and shoved a throw pillow over his ears, flipping Clint off with his other hand.

“Wow, extra rude, Stark. Your kid’s in the room.”

“Shut up Barton.” Tony replied, words muffled by the couch. “Just go away.”

“Come on Pete,” Clint said, grabbing Peter’s hand. “Let’s go be cool somewhere else.”

Peter giggled as Clint led him out of the living room and into the kitchen. The boy climbed up onto one of the chairs that were lined up against the marble countertop. Clint walked over to the cabinet where he knew they kept the cups and pulled out two.

“So, what’s got your dad in such a bad mood?” he asked as he poured them both glasses of water. “Don’t spill this.” he added, handing Peter the drink and hoisting himself onto the counter.

“Pops said he’s just grumpy ‘cause he stayed up past his bedtime doing work.” Peter said, halfway through a sip of his water.

Clint nearly snorted. “Guess your dad should stick to his bedtime, huh? I think he’s getting a little too old to be staying up so late.”

“Yeah, he is pretty old.” Peter nodded in agreement.

“You should tell him that sometime. Remind him that old people need their sleep.”

“Okay, I will!” Peter said brightly, and Clint couldn’t suppress a laugh. “What’s so funny?” Peter asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Nothing,” Clint said, shaking his head. “Oh, before I forget.” Clint picked up the shopping bag from where it had been sitting on the counter and handed it to Peter, who eagerly dumped its contents out in front of him.

“Candy canes!” Peter exclaimed, tearing open the plastic of one of the numerous boxes that Clint had picked up on his way to the tower. “Can I have one?”

“Of course, buddy.” Clint smiled. “That’s what I got them for.”

“Thanks!” Peter said, quickly opening one. “Why did you get so many?” he asked, as soon as his mouth was full of candy cane.

“I dunno,” Clint replied. “I figured we could decorate the tree with them or something.”

“We haven’t put up our Christmas tree yet.”

“Oh,” Clint said, tapping his chin in thought. “Well you could go see if your dad wants one. Maybe offering him candy will put him in a better mood.”

“That’s a good idea!” Peter said, grabbing one of the candy canes and hopping off the chair before making his way out of the kitchen. He was gone for less than a minute, walking back in the room a few seconds later, unopened candy cane still in tow.

“He didn’t want it?” Clint asked, a little surprised. He had figured that even if Tony didn’t really want the candy, he would have at least taken it for his son’s sake.

“No... I think he’s asleep.” Peter said quietly, even though his dad was in the other room.

“Asleep? Are you sure?” Clint silently padded into the doorway of the living room, Peter following closely behind him. “Here, give me that.” He held out his hand, and Peter placed the candy cane in his open palm. “Okay, now watch this.” Clint whispered before flinging the candy cane at Tony, hitting him in the center of his back with a quiet smack. Tony shifted slightly, rolling from his side to his back, but he didn’t say anything, and even from a distance Clint could see that his eyes were closed.

“Damn, he really was tired.” Clint mumbled to himself before an idea popped into his head. “Hey Peter, I think I know what we can decorate instead.”

* * *

 

As Tony began to stir, Clint slapped a hand over Peter’s mouth. “Shh, don’t say anything yet.”

For a good hour and a half, Tony had been napping, and Clint and Peter had been amusing themselves. After Clint had checked that the exhausted Tony Stark wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon (consisting mainly of poking him and saying things along the lines of, “Tony Stark is a big loser nerd.”), he had grinned widely at Peter. “Ready?”

The young boy, while thoroughly confused, had smiled back at his uncle. “What are we going to do?”

Clint moved as quietly as he could back to the kitchen counter, grabbing the boxes of candy canes and carrying them back to Peter. He set the (alarmingly) large number of boxes down next to the boy, and silently instructed him to start opening them and pulling the canes out.

When every box was empty, Hawkeye motioned for Peter to grab as many as he could, and both boys moved across from the couch. Gently picking up one of the red striped canes, Clint bounced it in his hand before tossing it at Tony. The candy landed squarely on Tony's cheek. Clint and Peter promptly hid behind the nearest furniture as Tony groaned and mumbled in his sleep.

Reassured that Tony wouldn't be interrupting their game, Clint and Peter grinned mischievously at each other and continued, taking turns throwing candy canes at the napping Tony.

Now, with Tony on the verge of waking, Clint reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, whipping it out and snapping numerous pictures of the genius, covered in over fifty candy canes. Clint was on the verge of running away and leaving Tony to figure it what happened on his own when a door slammed from somewhere else in the tower. Tony's eyes opened, and he stared up at Clint and Peter.

Clint remained straight faced, but Peter gave out a small giggle, and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Clint, what did you do?"

Hawkeye grabbed Peter and took off for the door as Tony sat up on the couch. Moments after, Tony heard the door to what he asked was Clint's room lock. The man sighed as Steve walked in with a book. The blonde stopped in the doorway and gave Tony a blank look, one eyebrow raised. His husband looked up at him, a sticky candy cane falling off his cheek and into his lap.

"What are you looking at?"


	9. Snuggling

Prompt: Snuggling

Tony glanced at the digital clock beside Peter's bed as he tucked the young boy in and kissed his head. 8:42. 

"Hey, you did a good job tonight buddy! There's still three minutes before bedtime." 

Peter smiled triumphantly (albeit sleepily) up at Tony before turning over on his side, facing the window. Tony took this as an invitation to leave, so he walked to the door and stopped. He turned out the light and looked back at Peter. "Goodnight, Pete. Sleep tight." 

Peter turned his head around slightly and replied, '"G'night, Daddy! I love you!"

Tony chuckled. "I love you too." 

Closing the door behind him, Tony left the boy’s room and made his way back down to the living room. As he walked through the hallway, Tony couldn’t help but stop and look at the pictures on the wall. The majority were of Peter, of course, but there were quite a few of the dads, and even the other avengers. Some of Peter’s better drawings had been framed and hung up beside the family portraits. 

When Tony entered the living room, the only light came from the large fireplace. Outlined on the couch in front of it was the unmistakable figure of Steve. Tony smiled slightly. 

There was no one in this world or the next who would ever make him as happy as Steve Rogers. As though he could feel Tony thinking about him, Steve turned and looked at him over the back of the couch.

The glow from the fire framed his face and have him a golden halo. Tony walked just a little bit faster to the other side of the couch, where he settled comfortably next to Steve. 

The larger man wrapped an arm around his shoulder, giving Tony space to lean into his embrace (A/N I apologize for my unintentional rhyme). Steve leaned over and pressed a brief kiss to the top of Tony's head.

Both men sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. The only sounds they could hear were the crackle of burning wood in the fireplace and each other's steady breathing. Even the city that never sleeps seemed to have quieted down.

Tony was in the process of dozing off, his head on Steve's broad chest, when he heard (or rather felt) Steve mutter happily, "Would you look at that." 

While he quite enjoyed his current position, Tony's curiosity got the better of him, and he sat up with a groan. "What are we looking at?" 

Steve grinned at his sleepy husband, reaching out to grab his chin and direct his face towards the window, where a heavy snowfall had begun. While there was a great amount of snow coming down, the descent was gentle, and was beautifully illuminated by the city lights. 

Tony's gaze slid from the white fluff coating the city to Steve. The larger man somehow managed to simultaneously look serene and peaceful, and have the air of an excited child at the first snow of the year. Tony suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of love for this man, this wonderful man who he had promised to spend the rest of his life with. And even though he was Tony Stark, in that moment, he had no doubt in his mind that that was a promise worth keeping.


	10. Snow

Prompt: Snow

When Tony woke up, the first thing he noticed was that he was a lot colder than usual. It wasn’t that the temperature of the room was any different; Tony had instructed JARVIS to keep the house at a perfect 70 degrees, and the AI never faltered, Tony made sure of that.

Tony shifted slightly, pressing the side of his face into the mattress. He stretched his arms, noting that he wouldn't be able to do such a thing had Steve been asleep next to him, briefly wondering if the absence of his husband was the reason for his sudden chill. The super soldier radiated heat like a furnace, and most mornings Tony found himself pressed up against his chest, relishing in the warmth. Tony dismissed this theory quickly though, because on the days he did wake up alone, usually due to Steve being an earlier riser by nature, (and a fully functioning human being in the morning), Tony was never this cold, never shivered this hard. 

Before Tony could bury himself back into the heavy comforter that was currently twisted around his waist, he felt an icy gust of wind assault his exposed skin. That was strange. He rolled over onto his side, facing the direction of the mystery breeze. Tony cracked open an eye, squinting at the sudden light that attacked his senses. 

"Steve?" He called out to an empty room, gingerly opening his other eye. After the sleep cleared from his vision, Tony immediately noticed that the door to the attached balcony was slightly ajar. Well, that explained the cold. And where Steve was, probably. 

Tony swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, nearly tripping over his own feet. He'd never been very agile without at least one cup of coffee in him. He quietly padded over to the glass door, pushing it open so he could fit through. Tony’s teeth involuntarily chattered as his bare feet connected with ice cold concrete, and for a second he wished that he had had the sense to put on socks. A sweatshirt too, he thought, as a few large snowflakes landed on his forehead and bare arms.

“You’re up early.” Steve said, not bothering to turn around, and Tony couldn’t really blame him. The blond had his elbows propped up on the edge of the balcony, gazing out at the city, a great view on a normal day. On this particular morning, the entire city was coated in a thick layer of snow that had been falling since the night before, and even Tony had to admit that everything looked gorgeous.

“Someone left the door open.” Tony accused playfully, leaning on the railing and staring down at the recently plowed streets. “I was freezing.”

“Sorry,” Steve replied, moving over so he could drape himself over Tony, wrapping his arms around his waist, and resting his chin on Tony’s shoulder. “but isn’t it beautiful up here?” 

Tony moved so that his cheek was pressed against Steve’s, glancing up to meet Steve’s eyes.

“I like what I’m seeing right now” Tony mused. Steve grinned and flipped Tony around so his back was pressed into the cold steel railing.

"You're quite the sight as well, Mr. Stark." Steve smirked, leaning over to place a light, but definitely not chaste, kiss to Tony's neck. "But you seem a little cold. How do you feel about going inside and letting me warm you up?" Steve all but growled into Tony's ear. Tony liked where this was going.

"Whatever you think is best for my health, Captain. You're the boss." It was for sure going to be a good morning. Steve grabbed the sides of Tony's face, about to pull him in for what he was sure would be a mind-numbing kiss when the door to their bedroom burst open, slamming shut again as tiny legs sprinted in. And the day had been off to such a   
good start. 

"Dad? Pops?" Peter yelled. "Where are you guys?" He asked, obviously not noticing the still wide open glass door. 

Tony groaned at the loss of contact as Steve stepped back. “We’re out here Peter.” he called inside, standing up a little straighter and sliding an arm around Tony's shoulder. 

“I would never have agreed to have a kid if I'd known I'd get cock-blocked every five seconds." Tony grumbled just loud enough for Steve to hear. The blonde rolled his eyes, but   
he seemed amused, and Tony knew Steve couldn't have been happy about the little shit interrupting their "alone time". 

“You know, you kind of cock-block yourself when you say things like that.” Steve said into Tony’s ear, no real bite behind his words. Tony wasn't even worried about Steve withholding sex, (been there, done that, ended badly for everyone) he was more concerned that it wasn't going to happen now. So he sighed, and dropped his head onto his husband’s shoulder. 

“I know.” He placed a light kiss on Steve’s collarbone. “But can you really blame me? I mean, look at yourself. You’re gorgeous, babe.” 

Steve laughed a little, and placed a kiss on the top of his head. “You can have me later. Right now, we have a son in the next room who really doesn't need to see what you’re thinking about right now.”

Tony cringed a little bit at the idea, and moved towards the door. “Well, now you've ruined the mood.” 

Steve smiled as he brushed past him and into the bedroom. “That was the point.”

Closing the door behind himself, Tony followed Steve into the room, muttering under his breath about the cold and noble husbands and boner killing sons. Inside, his husband was already next to Peter, sweeping the young boy into his arms and lightly tossing him onto the bed. Tony took his cue and met the two of them, joining in with Steve to tickle the laughing child beneath them. 

The pair collapsed beside each other when Peter decided to fight back, trying like most children to tickle his dads, his uncoordinated fingers failing to result in much of a genuine reaction. To keep the jovial mood of the morning, they both reduced themselves to exaggerated giggles, though Peter seemed unable to tell the difference. Once the boy tired of his game, he sat atop Steve’s chest, feet in his Pops’s face. He gave both of his parents a toothy smile. 

“Guess what?” 

“What?” Steve smiled lovingly at the boy. 

“School called.”

“Oh yeah? And what did school say?”

Peter bounced a little in his excitement, causing a slight “oof” from Steve at the unexpected pressure on his lungs. “We got a snow day!” 

“Really? That’s great news, bud!” Steve’s smile grew. “Does that mean we get to spend all day together?” 

Peter’s face seemed like it might split if he grinned any wider. “Yeah! And we can play in the snow, and drink hot cocoa, and watch movies, and play in the snow, and color, and play in the snow, and EEE!”

The child’s seemingly unending stream of words was cut off as Steve reached up and tickled the bottom of his foot, sending both of them into giggles again. Tony smiled at the simple interaction between his two favorite people. For all that he bitched about Peter interrupting the minimal time he and Steve got to spend together as a couple, he wouldn't trade the time he got to spend with his family for anything. 

“Alright, boys, settle down.” Tony called over the boisterous laughs. “As fun as this is, if Peter wants to make the most of this snow day, we all need to go get dressed.”

Peter pouted, but slid down off the bed and walked to the door. “Daddy, can you come help me pick out my clothes?”

Tony smiled. “Sure, bud. You head on up, and I’ll get dressed real fast.”

When Peter didn't move, Tony walked to the door and ruffled his hair. “I’ll be right up, okay?”

The boy smiled, and ran toward his room. Tony turned, and caught the look that Steve was giving him. 

“What?” 

Steve walked over slowly, resting his forehead against Tony’s with a smile smirk. “Just thinking about how much I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Tony leaned up and pressed a passionate kiss to Steve’s lips. Both men were breathless when they pulled away. “I just promised our son that I’d meet him upstairs in a minute.”

“How long does it usually take for him to get impatient and come back down?”

“Four minutes or so?”

“I can do that.”


	11. Blankets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like this is the longest chapter so far! Enjoy, my lovelies, and don't forget to review!

Prompt: Blankets

"Daddy, can we go back outside today?" Peter said, ending the sentence with a cough. Steve grimaced, and handed his son another tissue. 

“I don’t think so, buddy.” Tony said, pressing the back of his hand to his son’s forehead before ruffling his hair. “You’re feeling kind of warm, and we don’t need you catching the flu for Christmas.” 

Peter crossed his arms, making a small annoyed sound, and Tony had the feeling that they weren’t going to get off easy from this fight. Peter was normally a pretty well-behaved kid,the perfect child if Tony did say so himself, (which he did. Often.) he could get very sassy, and had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Tony blamed Steve for that one. 

“But Pops always says that going outside and getting exercise is good for your health” Peter whined, all but glaring at his father. Steve looked up at Tony, making a slightly apologetic face as Tony crossed his arms. 

Just as Tony started gearing up for the argument that was bound to follow, already looking at Steve to make sure that they were on the same page, a quiet ringing was heard in the general vicinity of Steve’s ass. The blonde pulled out his cell phone, and, after checking the caller ID, stepped out of the room. 

“Rogers.” he said as he closed the door behind him. Tony groaned inwardly. Great. Of course he’d get called in now, and right as he needed his support in this fight, too. He glanced down at the fuming little boy in the bed beside him. 

“Peter,” Tony said calmly, in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “going outside in the cold, wet snow will lower your immune system, and you already sound like you’re getting sick as it is. We can go outside another day, you know I love playing in the snow as much as you do.” A blatant lie, but Tony really needed to get Peter on his side so they wouldn’t have to deal with a bitchy kid all day.

Before the aggravated little boy had time to get another word in, Steve stepped back into the room. 

“That was Fury. They need me on a mission with Tasha, ASAP.” he said. 

Well shit. That was exactly what Tony was hoping to avoid. “Did you tell him that our son is sick?” 

Steve nodded. “Apparently it’s pretty important. Wouldn’t even tell me where I was going.” 

Tony sighed. He knew there was no way of talking Steve into staying home. He was in full commander mode now, ready and raring to go. So instead he nodded his consent, moving to let Steve say goodbye to Peter before he left. He moved to the hallway and leaned against the wall until Steve came out. 

They didn’t say anything, Steve just pulled Tony to his chest and held him there, breathing in his scent and memorizing every detail; how his hair felt against his cheek, how the muscles in his back moved under his hands, how if they stayed quiet enough, he could feel their heartbeats synchronize, as if they really were two halves of a whole. 

When they pulled apart, Tony leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his lips, leaving his hand lingering on the blonde’s cheek. 

“Come back to us in one piece, okay?” he whispered. This wasn’t anything new, every time Steve went on a mission without Tony there to have his back, the genius couldn’t shake a feeling of nervousness. 

Steve smiled warmly, leaning down to kiss Tony’s forehead. “Always.” 

Tony leaned up and captured Steve’s lips in another quick kiss before pulling back with a grin. “Go kick some bad-guy ass for me, okay?” Tony said, slapping Steve’s ass as he moved to walk away.

Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head fondly. “I always do. I love you, Tony.”

“Love you more.” Tony replied, finally letting Steve go from his embrace.

“Doubt it.” Steve said as he started to make his way down the hall. 

“Wanna bet?” Tony called after him. “I wouldn’t if I were you, because I have way more money than you do. Also, I definitely love you more” 

“Goodbye Tony” Steve said, laughing as he rounded the corner and out of Tony’s view. Tony smiled to himself for a few seconds, enjoying the fuzzy feeling Steve left him with, before stepping back into Peter’s room. 

“Guess it’s just you and me today kid.” Tony said, sitting down on the end of Peter’s bed. “You can help me build robots or something cool like that, sounds fun right?”

“No.” Peter replied stubbornly. “I don’t want to build robots. Robots are boring.”

Tony gasped and put a hand over his heart in mock-pain. “You wound me, Petey.” he said sarcastically, knowing that his son was just being a grumpy little shit. Normally Peter jumped at the chance to help his dad out, so Tony figured that he was just upset that he wasn’t getting his own way. “What do you suggest we do that isn’t boring?” Tony asked, even though he was almost certain he knew the answer.

“Go outside in the snow.” Peter replied, and yeah, the kid really wasn’t going to give this one up. 

“We’ve already established that we can’t go outside today Peter, but I bet that we can have just as much fun inside as we could in the snow.” Tony said firmly. Steve would be so proud of Tony for not caving in on this one. 

“No we can’t, cause we can’t build a snow fort cause there’s no snow inside.” 

“True,” Tony said, already formulating a plan. He really hoped this would work, because there was only so long he could deal with a sniffly, bitchy child. “But we can build a different kind of fort. 

Peter stared at him as incredulously as a child could. Tony ignored his confused look and got up off the bed, taking Peter’s comforter with him.

“What are you doing? I’m cold!” Peter said, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. 

“We,” Tony pointed a finger at Peter. “are going to have a whole lot of fun. You and I are both going to grab as many blankets as we can find and then meet up in the living room in…” Tony paused and checked his watch. “Ten minutes.”

“Fine.” Peter grumbled, “I’m still cold, though.” 

Tony stopped in his tracks long enough to dramatically roll his eyes at the six year old’s petulance. 

“Okay, fine.” He dropped the blanket for a second and pulled off the sweatshirt he was wearing, tossing it to the little boy as he climbed out of bed. “It’s already warm and everything.”

Tony looked back and almost laughed at the sight. The baggy sweatshirt came down almost to Peter’s feet, and the sleeves were at least twice as long as they should’ve been. But the kid looked relatively content with the peace offering, so Tony wasn’t about to complain. When Peter looked relatively situated in his too-large sweater, Tony picked up the blanket and checked his watch. 

“Alright. Ready kid?” He asked, happy that when he looked down, Peter looked more determined than bored. The little boy nodded up at his father. 

“Ready.”   
“Okay.” He glanced back at his watch. “On your marks, get set…”

“Go!”

\--------

Steve walked back in the house at around 9:30, later than he would have liked, but honestly earlier than he expected. As soon as he stepped into the living room, he was met with a surprise to say the least. An elaborate blanket fort stretched across the room from wall to wall, covering everything in it’s path. Steve didn’t even know they had that many blankets in the entirety of Stark Tower.

Looking around, he saw the tiny sheets that could only come from Peter’s bedroom. There were the soft silk sheets that he and Tony used in the summer on their bed, and the warm flannel ones that had been on their bed as of the time he left that morning. 

The black and white sheets underneath the TV clearly came from Natasha’s room, and the red ones from Thor’s. The purple ones with the food stains undoubtedly belonged to Clint, and the green ones he recognized as Tony’s smartass present to Bruce on his last birthday. Even more sheets covered the room, and the hell if he knew where those had come from. 

He scanned the room, and was mildly dismayed to find that the only entrance deeper into his home was a small entrance into a blanket tunnel. But he smiled slightly, and dropped his briefcase beside the kitchen table. The blonde got on his hands and knees, trying carefully not to disrupt the surely fragile walls of this actually pretty impressive structure. 

Steve wished that he had checked his watch before venturing into the fabric labyrinth, because by the time he had found his way through the twists and turns, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. With the amount of dead ends he hit, and the number of times he was forced to turn around, he could’ve been crawling around for anywhere between three minutes and forty. 

In the center of the room was the hub of all the tunnels, a large area littered with pillows and Peter’s favorite toys. His superhero action figures made a bread crumb trail that led Steve’s attention to where his boys were curled up. Tony was nestled in between a few pillows, and Peter was curled up under his arm. Steve smiled, and crawled over to gently shake Tony’s shoulder. He sat back on his heels, still crouching to avoid hitting the ceiling, and waited for his husband to wake up. 

“Hey.” Steve whispered as brown eyes looked up to meet blue. 

“Hey yourself.” Tony stretched slightly, trying not to jostle the sleeping boy beside him. 

“How’s he doing?”

“Fever’s gone down. He hasn’t been coughing as much, either.” 

“I see you guys were pretty busy today.” Steve gestured to the fabric igloo surrounding them. 

Tony grinned. “Yeah. He’s knocked out pretty good now, huh? Think you can get him to bed without tearing down the Fortress of Awesome?” 

Steve laughed as quietly as he could. “Oh, is that what he named it?” 

Tony looked affronted. “Excuse you, I came up with that name. It’s brilliant”

“If you say so.” Steve laughed, leaning down to give Tony a quick kiss before gingerly scooping up Peter into his arms. 

“Tony, I don’t know how you expect me to carry him out if I can’t even sit up straight.”

The genius sighed. “Oh, fine. But don’t expect me to explain why his blanket fort is in pieces tomorrow morning.” 

Steve looked around, thinking for a second. “Well, you know…”

Tony snorted. “Probably.” 

His husband ignored him. “There are plenty of pillows here. And it’s been a while since we camped out in the living room…” 

Tony smiled as he caught on. “Not a bad idea, Capsicle. You first?” 

Steve handed the little boy back to Tony, and grouped a large portion of the pillows into one corner before laying down in it. The brunette gently placed their son down, laying on his other side so the boy was in the middle of a sandwich of his parents. He scooted a little closer, pressing his forehead against Steve’s as the blonde slid his arm over his family. 

It was surprisingly comfortable, Steve mused as he started drifting asleep. 

“I kinda wish we had a blanket…” Tony muttered beside him. 

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

 

“...”

“Oh.”

“Goodnight, Tony.”

 

“Night Steve.” Almost as an afterthought, he added. “Love you.”

Steve smiled. “Love you more.”

“Wanna bet?”


	12. Hot Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Well this one was a total pain in the ass to get started, so we really hope you enjoy it! Let us know what you think!

Prompt: Hot Chocolate

 

“Alright, listen up, Iron Ass.” Clint demanded as he strolled into the SHIELD breaks room, Natasha at his side. Tony and Steve sat at the table, and looked up from their lunches at the couple in front of them. 

“What’s up, bird brain?” Tony asked calmly, taking another bite of his sandwich. The archer crossed his arms, looking at Natasha before continuing. 

“Well, Tasha and I have been talking, and we decided that you have had Peter all to yourselves for far too long.”

Tony looked mildly bewildered. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

Nat looked at Steve. “We want to take Peter for the weekend.”

The super soldier grinned, slowly nodding his head in the acceptance of the idea. His husband, on the other hand, was a bit more suspicious with the new plan. 

“Why would you want to do that? And where would you even stay?” Tony fired off. Steve turned to Tony in confusion. 

“Babe, you’re constantly complaining that we don’t get any time to ourselves anymore, but the second you have the option, you’re trying to avoid it.” 

Natasha nodded. “Yeah, from what I can tell, you two could really use some alone time. You haven’t had any in quite a while, if I’m right. Which I’m sure I am.”

 

Tony gave his husband an incredulous look. “You told her?”

Clint snorted. “You say that like the entirety of SHIELD doesn’t know that you haven’t screwed in a month. Not the way you need to, at least.” 

The room went silent, the pair of rookie agents at the coffee machine blushing as they listened to the Avengers’ conversation. Natasha rolled her eyes at her blustering teammates. 

“So can we take him or not?”

Tony tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I do miss fucking on the couch...”

The poor rookies in the back of the room hustled out, muttering to themselves. 

Clint smiled. “I’m taking that as a yes. Also please burn the couch when you’re finished defiling it”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “You do have a son that shares that house with you, you know.”

\-------------

Peter walked out of his school amidst the crowd of screaming elementary schoolers. He pulled his backpack farther up on his shoulder, trying not to lose his book as he got jostled from all sides. The small boy began taking the path to the bus out of habit- he’d been at the “big kid school” only since the beginning of the year, but he’d always been good at memorization. 

“Peter!” A familiar voice caused the child to pick his nose out of his book. A wide grin spread across his face as he found the source of the noise. He closed his book, running as fast as his little legs could carry him. 

“Uncle Clint! Aunt Tasha!” Clint moved off of where he was leaning beside Natasha against her sleek black car to scoop up the child, tossing him in the air and catching him as he giggled with glee. 

“Hey, Clint, mind if I get a hug in before you boys go crazy?” Nat asked, no real venom behind her smile. The marksman reluctantly passed over Peter to his partner, who squeezed the little boy tightly before setting him down. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Pete asked with a toothy smile. 

Clint knelt down in front of the kid as Natasha helped him shrug off his backpack to toss it into the backseat of her car. 

“Well, Auntie Tasha and I talked to your dads, and they said that you can come stay with us for the weekend!” He paused. “If you want to, of course.”

The little boy rolled his eyes. “Duh, Uncle Clint.”

The agents shared a smile at the little boy’s attitude, clearly derived from six years straight of Tony Stark. “Yeah, cause we’re the coolest, right?” Clint asked. 

“Right!” Peter chirped as he jumped into the back seat. Natasha slid into the drivers seat, turning briefly to check her nephew’s seat belt as Clint sat down next to her. 

“You all ready to go, kiddo?” 

“We got all your stuff from Stark Tower already, so do you want to head right to the apartment, or is there something you want to do first?”

Peter thought for a moment as they pulled into the busy New York streets. Clint stayed facing back, his chin propped up on the seat. 

“What are you thinking?” 

The boy hesitated. “Can we go get hot cocoa?” 

“Sure we can.” Natasha answered, turning down a new street. 

“Well, Pops always says it’ll make me not hungry for dinner so I can’t….” 

Clint laughed and faced forward again. “Well, Pops isn’t here right now, so we can do whatever you want to do.”

Peter smiled at his aunt and uncle as they pulled into a parking space at a small, local coffee shop. The adults got out, Natasha stopping to help Peter out of the back and holding his hand as they walked in. Clint moved over and grabbed his other hand. The partners made eye contact over the boy’s head, a silent conversation where Clint convinced Natasha to loosen up just a little. 

“Ready, Pete? One, two…” The little boy took a running start as he caught on to what the archer was suggesting. “THREE.” 

Natasha and Clint swung their arms upward, launching a giggling Peter into the air right as they reached the entrance doors. They were all laughing as they pushed into the small building. The smell of nutmeg and coffee beans washed over them, the mellow lighting providing a calming atmosphere. A few teenagers sat in one corner, largely ignoring each other and staring at their phones. An elderly couple occupied a table for two near the entrance, and a businessman on his laptop sitting in a plush chair and plugging away at his laptop. 

The trio ventured up to the counter, and a middle-aged barista smiled down at Peter as he tried to see over the counter. 

“Well if you aren’t just the cutest little thing. What can I get for you folks today?” She asked in a too-sweet voice. 

“Pete, do you want to tell her what you want?” Natasha asked. 

“We want three hot cocoas, please!” The little boy said politely. Nat bit her lip to keep from laughing. Clearly he’d spent quite a bit of his time learning manners with Steve, too. 

The barista let out a barking laugh. “And is that all, sweetie?” 

Peter nodded. “Uh-huh!” 

“Alright, they’ll be right out honey. Just take a number and we’ll bring them over to you.”

“Thank you!” The little boy said as he ran over to an empty table, not waiting for the adults to catch up. Clint slung his arm over Natasha’s shoulder as they moved to join Peter. 

“I think this is going pretty well so far, don’t you?” He asked, smile inches from the woman’s face. She scoffed and pushed him off with a smile. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, we only just picked him up.”

“Yeah, but we are pretty damn cool.” He said as they sat at the table. 

Peter’s head snapped up from where he was tracing the patterns on the table. “Oh, you said a potty word!”

Nat smiled at the boy as she kicked Clint under the table. “You’re right, Pete. Remember not to repeat it, though, okay?”

 

The boy nodded solemnly. “Oh, I know. Pops makes Daddy put money in the swear jar at home.”

“Of course he does.” Clint snickered. “Ow.” 

He made a face at Natasha as she kicked him again. She made one back, just as their drinks reached the table. A large blue mug was placed in front of each of them, small puffs of smoke rising from the swirling pools of chocolate. 

“Don’t forget to blow on it to cool it down, okay Pete?” Natasha instructed. “You too, Clint.”

The trio sat quietly for a few minutes, sipping on their drinks until they were acceptable temperatures. As soon as he was able to, Clint took a deep swig of his cocoa, slamming the mug down with a refreshed “ahh.” 

The marksman smiled across the table at Peter, who started giggling. Confused, he looked over at Natasha, who was hiding a smile behind her hand. 

“What?”

Peter broke out into loud laughs, pointing at the chocolate mustache covering Clint’s upper lip. “You look like Daddy!”   
Natasha allowed herself to join in with the young boy, laughing quietly as Clint ran his tongue over his lip to clean off the chocolate. Seeing a spot that he missed, she leaned forward and cupped his face in her hand, using her thumb to wipe off the chocolate on the edge of his mouth. So maybe she lingered a second longer than was strictly necessary. Peter was too involved in his drink to notice. 

Thankfully, he was still occupied with his chocolate to see the mischievous wink that Clint sent her way as she pulled back. The redhead rolled her eyes fondly as she wiped the stray chocolate off of her thumb and onto her napkin. Peter looked back up. 

“Uncle Clint, could we get a cookie? I saw them at the counter earlier.” The little boy widened his eyes, giving the adults a perfectly crafted puppy dog face. Clint smiled. 

“Sure thing! I thought you’d never ask.” In an exaggerated whisper, he added, “Don’t tell Tasha, but I was looking at them too.”

Peter jumped out of his seat, grabbing Clint’s hand and dragging him up to the display case. Nat turned in her seat just enough that she could watch them, smiling at the joyful way the boys compared the pros and cons of the different flavors of cookies. 

“You have a beautiful family.” A voice from behind the redhead said. Upon turning around, Natasha saw the elderly woman who had been sitting by the door when they came in smiling at her.

“Oh, actually, you see, they’re-” Natasha stopped when she glanced over and saw that sometime since the last time she looked at them, Clint had placed Peter on his shoulders. The boys were staring at her as the barista took their cookies out of the display case. 

When he was sure they had her attention, Clint tapped Peter’s leg, and both of them made a silly face at her. Tongues out, cheeks puffed up, and eyes crossed (or as much as Peter could try to get them to cross), they made such a ridiculous sight that even the deadly assassin couldn’t help the laugh that crossed her lips as she waved at them. 

The faces dropped as Clint handed the cookies up to Peter, who held on to them tightly as the woman behind the counter rang up their purchase. The little boy looked away, trying to hide the fact that he was nibbling at his sweet and probably dropping crumbs into Clint’s hair, but he didn’t seem to notice. The whole of the man’s attention was on Natasha, the small smile that replaced the goofy face showing a whole new level of emotion. 

Clint stayed making eye contact with Natasha across the shop until Peter bounced on his shoulders, indicating that he was taking too long to hand over the money so they could go properly enjoy their treats. 

The elderly woman sighed. 

“Oh, I remember when my husband still looked at me like that.” She patted Natasha on the shoulder. “You hold on to that one dear. He’s smitten.” 

By the time Natasha turned back to face the old woman, she was gone. The spy looked up and saw her walking out of the door, arm in arm with the her husband. She turned around once, white curls bouncing as she waved to Nat.

“Hey, who was that?” Clint asked as he sat back down beside her, Peter already having moved back into his seat to munch on his overly large cookie. 

“I don’t know…”

“Well, what did she want?”

 

“Just to pass on some advice, I guess.” 

Clint looked at her skeptically. “What’s with all the secrecy all of a sudden?”

Nat smiled at him. “Nothing. I promise.” In the hopes of changing the subject, she asked, “So, Pete, what kind of cookie did you get?”

The little boy held up his snack, already half done. “Chocolate chip!” 

“I can tell; it’s all over your face.”

Clint laughed as Natasha scooted closer to the boy, using a napkin to wipe the chocolate mess on his face. 

“Careful, Tasha, you look almost motherly doing that. You have to think about your badass image, don’t you?”

 

“Swear jar, Uncle Clint.” Peter piped up when he finally pulled away from Natasha enough to take another bite and undo all of the cleaning she had just done. 

“You’re right. Again.” Clint smirked. “Just like your dad.” 

Peter beamed at the compliment. 

Natasha reached over and broke Clint’s cookie in half, taking the larger piece for herself. 

“Hey!”   
“What?”

“I worked hard for that cookie, why do you get the bigger piece?” 

“It was my money, that’s why.”

The trio finished their snacks quietly, content to share each other’s presence as they ate the warm chocolate chip cookies. Once in a while they would make idle chatter about school, or how Peter was going to need a bath to get all of the cookie off of his face, and how the hell did he manage to get that much in his hair?

They got up to leave, Clint throwing away their trash and Natasha taking Peter’s hand as he turned and waved goodbye to the barista. Just like when they came in, Clint took up his position on Peter’s other side. They stopped briefly at the door to check that Peter’s winter gear was properly on before venturing out into the cold. 

As they walked back to the car, shoes leaving footprints in a thin layer of snow that was still falling, Natasha looked down at the smiling face of her nephew. 

“So what do you want to do when we get home?” She asked. 

Peter thought for a minute. 

“We should get pizza.”

Clint laughed and Natasha shook her head with a slight grin. 

The marksman nodded as they helped the little boy buckle into the back seat. 

“I like the way you think, Pete.”

“He’s going to get sick if we just let him eat junk food all weekend.” Natasha reminded her partner. “Steve would kill us.”

Clint waved off her worries as they got into the front seats. “Psh. He’ll be fine. Besides, what Captain Healthy Shit doesn’t know won’t kill him.” 

“Swear jar!” Peter called from the backseat, his nose back in the book he was reading. 

Natasha looked at Clint and laughed. “Better watch your mouth, bird brain, or Tony’ll never let us near his kid again.”

“God dammit.” He muttered under his breath.

Tasha smiled. This was going to be an interesting weekend.


	13. Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH We got behind! We're so sorry, and we're trying to catch up as quickly as we can. We should have at least one more up tonight, so look forward to that one, too! Thank you so much for waiting, and please enjoy.

Prompt: Mistletoe

 

Clint Barton was woken up by an urgent voice and his shoulders being shaken. 

“Uncle Clint, Uncle Clint!” 

The man turned over, pulling the throw blanket closer around his shoulders as he buried his face into the back of the couch. 

“C’mon, just five more minutes.” He mumbled through the fabric. 

“No, Uncle Clint, it’s important!” Peter whined. The little boy jumped up beside the archer, bouncing on the couch. “Come on!”

“Alright, alright.” Clint grumbled as he swung his legs over the edge of the couch, nearly knocking his nephew off with his clumsy movements. He sniffled, wiping his eyes and squinting against the bright light. “What’s up, kid?”

“Aunt Tasha made breakfast, and she said we aren’t allowed to eat until you’re up.” The little boy said as he ran into the kitchen. Clint stared at the wall for a second. Seriously?

“You know, Pete, I love eating as much as the next guy,” the marksman said as he joined the other two at the kitchen table. “But Natasha’s cooking is not worth waking up this early.”

The redhead made a face at Clint as she put a plate of eggs in front of Peter, bouncing in his seat. 

“You know, you can make your own breakfast if you’re going to be a snob about it.” She tossed his plate in front of him, a couple pieces of bacon falling onto the table. 

“Aw, don’t be like that. Look,” he said, pointedly putting a bite of eggs. “I love your cooking!”

Nat smiled and rolled her eyes. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” 

“Yes, Mother.” 

“Shut up.”

“Auntie Tasha?” Peter piped up from his seat between them. 

“Yes, dear?” She asked, taking a small sip of orange juice.

“Why don’t you have any Christmas decorations up yet?” 

Clint looked around, realizing that the small apartment looked exactly like it always did, and that there wasn’t a single strand of tinsel or holiday spirit anywhere to be found. Natasha paused, thinking for a second. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never really decorated very much.”

The little boy looked at her closely. 

“Well, it’s boring.” He said matter-of-factly, taking another big bite of bacon. “We should decorate today.” 

Natasha’s eyes widened. Clint’s face slowly grew into a grin. 

“That’s a great idea, Peter.” The redhead made a warning face at her partner. “What? He’s right! This place could use a little joy.” 

Tasha, a murderous smile on her face, stared Clint in the eye as she said, “I don’t know how you plan on doing that. I don’t have anything to decorate with.”

Clint waved her off. “Don’t worry. We can go to the store and get stuff. I’ll even pay for it.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I know Tony’s credit card number”

Peter, having finished his breakfast faster than either of the adults, jumped out of his chair and ran into the living room. Tasha and Clint looked at each other, making identical “what-the-hell-is-he-doing” faces. Moments later, the child sprinted back, his coat on over his pajamas and his shoelaces untied. 

“Come on, guys, what are you waiting for?” 

\-----------

“Your son is so cute!” the young cashier said as she put their purchases into bags. Natasha was almost certain Clint and Peter had picked out every single Christmas decoration in the store, from lights to decorative reindeer to a Santa hat with “Ba humbug” written across it in cursive (something she was sure was going to be given to her). 

Before she had time to correct the woman, Clint stepped up and put his arm around her waist. 

“Thank you very much.” He said, ruffling Peter’s hair as the boy grabbed for the candy bar Natasha had let him buy. “He gets it from me.”   
Clint winked at the cashier, who giggled at the attention. Natasha rolled her eyes as she finished putting their bags in the overly full cart. She snagged the chocolate from Peter’s hands.

“Not until after lunch, mister.”

“Awww…”

“Clint, are you ready to go?” She asked over her shoulder, already moving out the door with Peter and their purchases. 

He looked thoughtful for a second. “Just give me a second, I think I’ll use the bathroom before we leave.”

“Alright. We’ll go load the car, you can just meet us there when you’re done.” 

“Cool. See you in a second, my love.” 

Their cashier sighed, presumably at how romantic the man was. Natasha rolled her eyes again, certain that if she spent any more time with the archer that they were going to get stuck like that. 

Natasha maneuvered the cart through the numerous rows of cars, careful to keep her hand tightly around Peter’s. The pair moved quickly, motivated by the cold wind blustering around them. They reached the car in record time, Nat popping the trunk as Peter struggled to reach over the grated side of the cart to grab one of the lighter bags. 

Just as they finished and Peter climbed in the backseat, Natasha saw Clint jogging to meet up with them. 

“That was fast.” She said a little louder than usual to compensate for the noise surrounding them. The redhead glanced at his hand and saw that he had another small bag hanging from it. “I didn’t know they were selling things in the bathroom.”

“Just a little something we forgot to grab. Don’t worry about it.” Clint smiled mischievously. Natasha sighed. 

“Whatever. Throw it in the back, and then run this over to the cart return, would you?” She said more than asked. “It’s cold, and I’m getting in the car.” 

As an afterthought, she mockingly added, “My love.”

Clint laughed. “Your wish is my command, Tasha.”

\---------

“Clint,” Natasha said, holding up a pair of garish red stockings. “why do we even need these?” 

“Peter needs the full Christmas decorating experience Tasha.” Clint replied, snatching the stockings from Natasha’s hands. “And you can’t get the full Christmas decorating experience without stockings.” 

“He’s not even going to be here on Christmas, so what’s the point?” The redhead protested. She picked up a third stocking and threw it at him. “And neither are you.”

Clint put his hand over his heart dramatically. “Tasha, why do you hurt me like this?” He dropped the act, moving to unwrap a box of brightly colored Christmas lights. “Besides, you never know where Santa will leave presents. Better safe than sorry, right?”

Natasha held up an obnoxious singing Santa figurine. “This is what constitutes safe?”

The woman sighed. “This is why I don’t have kids. Peter once in a while enough for me, thanks.”

Clint nudged her side with his elbow. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right guy.”

The pair stared at each other for a moment. The silence between them bordered on uncomfortable, both hardly daring to breathe, when they were suddenly interrupted.

“Aunt Tasha! Come help me put up the reindeer!” Peter yelled from across the room. The woman tore her gaze away from Clint, moving off of the couch to where her nephew was. Clint smiled as she walked away. It was very rare, indeed, when anyone saw the famed Black Widow in a position where she was relaxed. Even he had only caught glimpses a few times. But now, with her wearing pajama pants and a tee shirt, she looked comfortable. He might have even dared to say… normal. 

A timer went off in the kitchen behind them. 

“Oh, shi- shoot,” Nat corrected herself as she rushed out. “I forgot about the cookies.”

As soon as the woman was safely out of earshot, Clint snapped into action. 

“Peter,” he hissed. “Peter, come here.”

The little boy looked startled at first, but scrambled over to join his uncle on the couch. 

Sensing the importance of this business, he whispered, “What is it?”

“Wanna help me get your aunt to lighten up?” Clint asked with a grin. The child nodded vigorously. “Alright.”

Clint pulled the small bag he’d left the store with earlier our of his pocket. “I’ve got a plan.”

Natasha stood in the kitchen, placing the cookies into a the new Christmas bowl she had been forced to get. A noise from behind her made her spin around, spatula raised threateningly. She dropped the utensil to her side when she saw it was only Clint, holding Peter on his hip and looking far too innocent. 

“Careful Nat, you might hurt someone with that thing.” Clint said solemnly. “It looks pretty deadly, right Peter?”

The little boy giggled and nodded, his right hand stuck firmly behind his back. 

“The cookies aren’t done yet. I’ll bring them out when they are.” She said, choosing to ignore her partner’s annoying sense of humor. When he didn’t leave, she continued scooping cookies as though he had. The presence behind her indicated that had, in fact, moved closer. Much closer. 

“Aunt Tasha, turn around.” Peter instructed from directly behind her. Natasha reluctantly turned to face the boys. 

They both had goofy grins on their faces, and kept glancing at the hand Peter was now holding above the adults. With a sigh, Tasha looked to see what he had in his hand. Mistletoe. Of course. 

“Clint, are you serious?” She asked in exasperation. He nodded, looking at her expectantly. The woman scoffed. “You really are in high school, aren’t you?” 

Still smiling, Clint said, “Doesn’t make it any less effective.”

Shaking her head, Natasha glanced once more up at the little green branches with the red ribbon in Peter’s little hand. 

“So a kiss, huh? Okay…”

Clint’s smile seemed to widen even further. Natasha leaned forward, puckering her lips. 

The woman placed a solid kiss in the center of Peter’s cheek. She pulled back with a smirk as the little boy squealed and wiggled out of Clint’s arms. Still shrieking, he ran out of the kitchen and down the hall. Natasha laughed, both at the child, and at the shocked look on Clint’s face. 

“That’s cheating!” He spluttered. Natasha smiled at him innocently, turning to put the final couple of cookies into the bowl. She picked it up and spun on her heel, purposely smacking Clint in the face with her hair. The redhead smugly took another look at his face.   
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you speechless before,” she teased. She smiled when he didn’t respond. 

As she left the room, Natasha leaned up and placed a kiss on the corner of Clint’s mouth. He watched her as she left, mouth slightly open and face blank. Nat winked at him over her shoulder as she left the room to chase after her nephew. 

“Merry Christmas, Bird Brain.”


	14. Christmas Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the second for the day in our attempt to catch up. Enjoy!

Prompt: Christmas Shopping

“Aunt Tasha, I can’t find one.” Peter said exasperatedly, tugging at Natasha’s sleeve. Clint and Peter had dragged her out shopping again, this time because Peter insisted that he needed presents for his parents. Natasha agreed, of course, she was all for the spirit of giving, but shopping with two children was not at the top of her list of fun things to do (even if the children were her favorite nephew and her best friend). The last place Natasha wanted to be was the back of a kitschy gift shop, staring at disorganized shelves of cheap presents. 

“I’m sorry kid, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to find one” Natasha replied, as solemnly as she could. 

“But I need one!” Peter whined. “I can’t get Daddy a #1 Dad mug and not get Pops one that says #1 Pops, because what if he thinks that I think that he isn’t my number one Pops? What if he thinks I like Daddy better?”

“He’s right Natasha,” Clint said, sauntering over to Natasha’s side and draping an arm over her shoulders. “we don’t need to inflate Tony’s ego any bigger than it already is.” 

“I don’t know what to tell you Peter.” Natasha sighed, detaching herself from Clint and stepping forward to search through the mess of mugs again. “What about this one?” She held up a mug that read “#1 Pop-pop”. “That’s pretty close, right?” 

Peter made a displeased sound, and it took everything in Natasha’s power not to roll her eyes at the stubborn little boy. “It isn’t the same.” 

“You might as well just get him one that says #1 Grandpa” Clint said, grabbing a mug with the suggested title. Peter looked like he was going to cry. 

Clint somewhat surprisingly picked up on Peter's distress pretty quickly. "Hey, no, I was just kidding." He kneeled down and put a hand on Peter's shoulder, gesturing in Natasha’s direction with the other. “Can you hand me one of those markers?” 

Natasha grabbed one of the Sharpies on the shelf next to her and passed it to Clint, slightly afraid of what he was going to do with it. 

“Thanks” Clint said, uncapping the marker with his teeth and picking up one of the many mugs reading “#1 Dad”. He then proceeded to scribble over the word “Dad”, completely blacking it out, before writing the “Pops” underneath it in messy block letters. “There you go kid, perfect, right?”

“Clint...” Natasha sighed, but she couldn’t really be mad at him when Peter was grinning like the archer had made his day. “You know, now we have to buy it.”

“Like we weren’t going to have to buy it anyway.” Clint replied, standing up, but not before picking up one of one of the mugs that said “#1 Grandpa”. 

“What do you need that for?” Natasha asked, even though she had an idea.

“This is my present to Steve” Clint smirked, causing Natasha to roll her eyes for probably the millionth time since meeting Clint Barton. 

“You’re an idiot.”

Clint gasped in mock-offense. “And to think I was going to give you this.” Clint handed her a “#1 Grandma” mug.

“Aw, Clint,” Natasha said, smile growing. “how thoughtful. My grandkids never get me anything this nice.” 

Clint laughed. “Who’s the idiot now?”

“Still you, dear.”


	15. Christmas Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still trying to catch up- don't hate us! Here's another one, and I swear we will get caught up by the end of the week at the latest. Enjoy!

Prompt: Christmas Tree

 

The elevator dinged, a noise that drew Tony’s attention away from the seven foot tall Royal Douglas Fir tree now occupying the corner of the living room. He glanced between the metal doors and his husband, who looked as confused as he felt. 

“Did you invite anyone?” Steve asked. Tony shook his head. 

“Nope. You?” 

“Would I have asked if I did?” 

Tony shrugged. Both men looked back at the elevator as the number above it slowly came to a stop at their floor. The doors opened, and Tony groaned. 

“Seriously? Why are you here?” He asked in exasperation. Clint grinned and jumped over the back of the couch, settling next to a large box of ornaments. Natasha stood behind him, looking up at the tree in slight admiration. 

“Tree’s looking good, guys,” Clint said. “Looks like we got here for the fun part.”

Tony placed his hands on his hips. “Who said we wanted you here? And what do you mean, the fun part?” 

The archer shrugged. “You know, the part after you spend an hour untangling lights that end up not working anyway.”

Both men looked at the tree, perfectly wrapped in colorful, twinkling lights. 

“So you want to invade our house for the easy part?”

Clint looked thoughtful. “Basically.”

 

As the two men bickered, Steve moved to stand next to Natasha behind the couch. 

“Did Peter ask you to come over?” He asked quietly. Tasha nodded. 

“It looks good,” she said, acknowledging the tree. Steve looked down at her and smiled. 

“Thanks. Pete helped with the bottom couple rows of lights once Tony got frustrated.” 

The redhead laughed. “That’s cause Peter’s more mature than your husband.”

“Good point.”

Tony looked over at the pair indignantly. “You know, I can hear you insulting me.” 

Steve laughed and moved over to his husband, planting a kiss on his head. “Don’t worry, I love you anyway.”

The genius pouted, sticking out his bottom lip. “You fucking better.”

“Swear jar!” A little voice was heard from behind them. All four adults in the room turned to stare at the little boy. Clint turned and laughed at Tony. 

“Suck it, Stark!”

Natasha shot her partner a warning look, moving to scoop her nephew up into a hug. Tony turned to his husband. 

“Do you know why they’re here?” 

Peter flipped in Natasha’s arms, glaring at his father. 

“I asked them to come!” The child crossed his arms. “You always say that we have to decorate the tree as a family, and they’re our family, too.”

Steve smiled softly at his child. Clint and Natasha looked pleasantly surprised, but Tony still looked annoyed. 

“Yeah, but you just saw them yesterday. Why do you want to see them again?” The genius whined. 

Steve looked around at their odd little group. 

“Pete, you said this is our family, and you’re right, but don’t you think we’re missing a couple people?” The blonde asked his son. 

From the general direction of the elevator, a new voice said, “You were. Sorry I’m late, guys.” 

Tony looked even more surprised as Bruce came over to join the group. The man turned and stared at his son. 

“Peter, how did you manage to get everyone here at the same time?” He looked equal parts amused and confused. The little boy shrugged. 

“I called Aunt Tasha, and she told Uncle Clint, and then I called Uncle Bruce.” 

His parents looked mildly amazed at the six year old. 

“That’s actually… really impressive, buddy.” Steve said in bewilderment. 

“Yeah, your Pops didn’t know how to make a phone call until last week,” Clint joked. Natasha punched his arm. 

Bruce looked around. “Well, since we’re all here anyway, why don’t we get started?”

 

“No, no, no. Peter’s clothespin Rudolph goes next to the baby’s first Christmas ornament.” Tony corrected, moving things as he talked. Steve laughed from where he was sitting on the couch beside Natasha. 

“Babe, it doesn’t have to be exactly the same as it was last year.” He called. His husband turned and glared at him. 

“But it looked perfect last year!” Steve pushed himself off the couch and stood with his chest pressed up against Tony’s back as he surveyed the tree. The lights twinkled merrily, and the star sitting at the top seemed to glow in the early evening light. The fragile ornaments that he had bought his first Christmas at Stark Tower gave way to the more meaningful and silly ornaments that the couple had collected since Peter joined their odd little family. Steve couldn’t help but smile as each one present him with a different memory, a different feeling. 

The supersoldier pressed a light kiss on the brunette’s neck, breathing in his scent. Tony adjusted himself so Steve could rest his chin on the shorter man’s shoulder. 

“And it looks perfect this year,” he said. Quietly, he added, “Just like something else I’m looking at right now.” 

Tony smiled, still staring at the tree. He sighed heavily. “Okay. I guess you’re right.” 

The man spun in Steve’s arms so he was facing him, pulling his face down into a kiss. They pulled apart, but didn’t move more than a couple inches away from each other. 

“I am pretty damn perfect.”

Clint made a fake vomiting noise from where he and Peter were sitting on the floor, Chutes and Ladders spread out between them. 

“That’s gross, Stark. You’ve got a kid in the house.” 

Tony glared at the man. “More than one, when you’re here.” 

“Oh, mature.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes from where she and Bruce were drinking tea on the couch.   
“You’re both children. Except Peter’s better behaved.” 

Clint and Tony simultaneously turned and stuck their tongues out at her. Bruce chuckled. 

“Like I said. Children.”


	16. Decorations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super sorry this is so late again! they'll all be finished eventually

“Daddy’s coming!” Peter called from the top of the stairs. Steve finished plugging in the last of the lights before running back to meet his son. The little boy giggled in delight as his father swept him up in his arms, dumping both of them on the couch.

By the time Tony walked into the living room, his husband and son were seated quietly, cards in both of their hands.

“Go fish, Pops!” Peter said happily, a smile on his face. Steve pulled a card, but the look on his face was slightly more mischievous than usual. Tony cocked his head in suspicion.

“Hey guys, what are you doing?” He asked, drawing his son’s attention from the goldfish he was asking for.

“Hi Daddy! We’re playing go fish,” The boy said, sounding like he was reading off a script. Six year olds aren’t exactly known for their superior acting skills. Steve snickered beside him. Yup. Definitely something sketchy going on with those two. The genius narrowed his eyes.

“What’s going on with you two?”

Steve shook his head. “Nothing. Just playing cards. I’m going to make dinner in a second. What else could there be?”

Before Tony had the chance to answer, his husband moved off the couch and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“Finish the game for me, okay?” The blonde asked as he moved into the kitchen. Peter bounced excitedly at the chance of playing with his dad.

“Alright kid, who’s winning?”

 

* * *

 

The family sat on the couch after dinner, Steve’s arm around Tony’s shoulders and Peter sitting between them. Claymation reindeer moved around on the screen in front of them, jolly Christmas music playing in the background.

“Hey babe,” Tony leaned over to whisper in Steve’s ear. “As much as I love watching Christmas movies with you and the boy, I really need to get some work done in the lab.

Tony expected Steve to put up a fight, or at least seem a little annoyed. Instead he simply shrugged his shoulders and said “Okay.” before giving Tony a kiss on the cheek and unwrapping his arm from his around him. “Have fun. Don’t spend too much time down there.”

The genius pushed himself off the couch and padded down the steps to his “nerd cave”, as Clint so enjoyed calling it. The large room was pitch black when he walked in, which was unusual. Most of the time, JARVIS turned on the lights as soon as Tony entered the room, but this time he had to turn on the lights manually, fumbling for the lightswitch for a second before flicking it on.

As soon as he turned on the lights, Tony was accosted with a blinding display of holiday spirit. His entire lab was covered in Christmas decorations from top to bottom; colorful ornaments and paper snowflakes hung from every corner of the room, and tinsel and ribbons were strung across the ceiling, making the entire room sparkle. Every single one of Tony’s suits was wrapped in colorful lights and wearing santa hats.

“Steve? Peter?” Tony called up the stairs.

“Yes dear?” Steve replied, not even trying to hide the smile in his voice.

“Can you come down here for a minute?” Tony heard Steve stomp down the stairs, Peter following close behind him.

“What’s the matter babe?” Steve said, reaching down to scoop up Peter.

“Can either one of you tell me why it looks like the North Pole threw up in my lab?” Tony interrogated, putting his hands on his hips.

“Surprise!” Peter said, Steve grinning along with him. “ It was my idea. What do you think? Do you like it?”

“It’s very... flamboyant” Tony replied, taking another moment to gaze at all the sparkle.

“You’re pretty flamboyant hon.” Steve smiled, leaning over to kiss Tony on the cheek.

“True,” Tony said, taking Peter from Steve and holding him tight. “Must be why I love it.”


End file.
